


Lost

by loadedcasserole



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, Guess my fetish, Humor, I'm just going to see where this goes, Imprisonment, No Romance, Unapologetic-over-convenient Plot Device
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-03-15 00:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13601508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loadedcasserole/pseuds/loadedcasserole
Summary: The Ghost Zone has all kinds of curious baubles and trinkets of interest. Vlad only had an interest in its most powerful.  After years of searching, he had finally found it: The Guide of Time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting on my computer for a truly disgusting amount of time. Why so long? Because Clockwork. He's too OP and writing time shenanigans hurts my brain.
> 
> After so long, I'm tired of turning this over in head and I've finally reached my fuck-it-all stage. Take it- just- just take it.  
> 

 

It had been very difficult for Vlad to procure his new device.  As soon as he had heard whispers of its existence, he had tried for years to obtain it.

Something that held such immense power was well worth the effort, and the wait.

After sampling the time traveling capabilities of the Infi-map, his desire for it had tripled, and for a while, he had attempted to recreate the artifact that he had so long searched for.  After all, if it had been made once, and now knowing that such travel was indeed possible, then there was a chance that he could find the means.  However, as he had feared, doing so was beyond his abilities.

With little more than a name and a less-than-detailed description to go by, he could only guess how one would make an item such as The Guide of Time.

Fortunately, after a slew of investigations and research, most bringing in little more than dead-ends, luck had won out and he had learned of a trader that carried it.  It had been no wonder why he had so many problems in his search. Vlad had assumed that the Guide was to be found in the Ghost Zone only to learn that it had been tucked away, relatively locally, with a mortal keeper.  The idiot had no idea what he had in hand and had likely assumed that it was some gaudy decorative piece.

It had taken every bit of control that Vlad could muster in order to keep himself from flying to the man's warehouses just to burglarize them.

"Keep it simple," Vlad had muttered to himself, when he had first reached his decision.  Best to do it easy and do it right.  The trader had an immense stock of items and he feared that it would take far longer to locate on his own than it would be to have it shipped overnight.  Besides, there was no guarantee that it was even real.  A decoy, or an art piece inspired by the real thing, it could very well be.

He waited by his mailbox.

It made him feel like a boy again, hoping to receive a letter from a far off relative or a toy from those catalogs he had so much liked to flip through.  He could have done the logical thing and sat inside, watching from the windows for the mail courier.  That is what most people would do.

Normal, grown people.

It would be nice to be able to pace in private, but staying indoors in his excitement demanded too much of him.  He would just have to keep his legs under control for the time being.

Vlad instead kept an internal running commentary on mail routes and delays, slipping in a rude word for every three.  It was a good distraction from the worry that bit at his heels.  Surely, if the Guide were real, he would have used the device in order to travel back in time and kindly inform his past-self not to worry.

Unless, of course, his future-self knew that he would get more enjoyment and reward out of waiting and reaping the inevitable prize.

It was a nice thought, and cheered him immediately, even if it didn't quite feel right.  He knew himself well enough that he would appreciate sudden truth and reassurance, than something as useless as  _anxious waiting_.

Or it could be that, later on, he became too busy and distracted with the device to give his past-self some basic regard.

Yes, that sounded much better.

It went far to improve his mood.  So much so that when the mailman finally pulled up to deliver the innocuous looking paper box, he barely managed to snatch the parcel without pulling off extra fingers.

"The new mayor is a bit odd isn't he?" he overheard the mail carrier discussing with a passerby.  He dismissed the comment.  He had other things to concern himself with.

Vlad impatiently tore off the paper wrapping in the process of getting to his lab.  He didn't think that spectral energies relating to time would cause too auspicious of a display on activation, but just in case, he would rather deal with it in an out-of-the-way, controlled environment, should something go wrong. His current lab wasn’t as decked-out as his last, the new area modest at best.  Damage to it would set him back perhaps a month, but it would ultimately mean very little.

His palms reached the heart of the package before his feet found their destination.  All it would take was to crack open the final ornate, wooden box and he would have his prize.  He resolved himself to cease his fiddling.  If he gave in now, he didn't think he could resist trying it out in the hall.

The distance was shorter than how he perceived it, and he at last arrived.

"Let's see what we have here, shall we?" He pried open the container.

Within was a fist-sized, luminous blue sphere encompassed with looping purple tracery.  Although he couldn't say for certain what materials were used in the item’s making, he could easily tell that it was indeed of ectoplasmic origin.  A pass over with his fingertips removed any doubt that it was The Guide of Time.  It practically hummed with power.

He laughed, feeling absolutely giddy.  "How  _wonderful_ .  My goodness the things I have planned with you.  I can't believe that I just had the universe's most powerful tool shipped through the  _postal service_.  I must be out of my mind.  What if you had been lost?"

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, but with this he wouldn’t have to think back on past mistakes.  He could just correct them.

He slapped his hand against it.

Nothing.

Vlad suffered a moment of fear and uncertainty before letting out another short laugh.  Of course.  The artifact had still come from the ghost zone, no matter how it may have ended up on this side of a portal.  It would need a different sort of touch to bring it to life.

He channeled energy into his palm.

The sphere let off a burst of light that nearly blinded him.  It jittered in his hand and the surface softened, creating shallow molds for his fingers to more easily grasp.  A practical feature.

Concentration at an all-time high, he turned his thoughts to the day of the accident.  That would be addressed first.  After that?  Well, he had ideas on what he could do.  Vlad knew he was meant for great things, and with the device he could accomplish any task he set for himself.

Unfortunately, he had no idea if the artifact would dump him into his old body or just pop him in the time-line alongside his other self, but he had planned for each just in case.  His information on the Guide only went so far and the only way to learn more was to actually use it.

Vlad hoped his theories on time were correct enough and that he wouldn't make a mess of things in the process of change.  He simply couldn't  _not_  try however.

Already he could see how his lab changed before his eyes, the walls had darkened and the air turned hazy, blurring his vision momentarily.

A jump in the air pressure occurred around him, making his ears pop, and then suddenly he witnessed strips of translucent material manifest and piece themselves together from the bottom to the top.  It had an effect that was quite like the reverse of a banana being peeled.  Before he could even blink, a large bubble stood, hovering, in the middle of his lab—along with added contents.

The room returned to its natural state, colors snapped back to their standard hues, and all that remained was the large object before him.

His eyes met the surprised, red gaze of another.

"What.  Who- What?" He turned over the artifact carefully for closer inspection.  Could it be fake?  Some useless bauble dressed up to look the part?

Perhaps, if he were being optimistic, it had multiple uses, time being the most prominent feature.  If one had the ability to create such a tool, then he could understand why they might slip in extra properties.

A murmur sounded, carrying a muffled effect, "Masters."

He glanced back up at the ghost before him.  The spirit wasn't fully looking at Vlad despite having addressed him and instead seemed to have taken a keen interest in the enclosure.

Why?  Why a ghost?  What was it that Vlad had done that made the device decide that he needed to have a random specter in his house and what could he do to prevent it from happening again?

The ghost struck him as low level, its features very humanoid and common.  It even had a staff that it likely needed in order to channel its energy.

He had nearly written off the being as useless and was about to set himself to the task of getting rid of _it_  when he noticed a common theme scattered across the ghost's form.  Clocks, watches, a cog, and was that an hourglass he had glimpsed, hanging from an ear?

He may have yet found something worthwhile.

Vlad smiled widely, showing more fang than what was necessary.  "Tell me,  _who_ is this honored guest of mine?  I don't recall meeting you.  I'm sure I would have remembered.  How is it that you've come to know me?"

The spirit tapped at the glass, unhurried in his answer.  A moment longer and he may have snapped at the ghost for the disregard, but it deigned to speak.  "I know a great deal of things, but, apparently, not as much as I would like.  How is it that you found the sphere?"

"I'll be asking the questions," Vlad asserted and watched as the being shifted from that of an adult to an old man.  

He stared, thinking that it was an effect that the orb had done.  The specter looked unconcerned with his added age.  The ghost couldn’t have been so unobservant to not notice it.  If Vlad could immediately spot lint on his suit, there was no way a reasonable person could miss two feet of beard suddenly appearing on their face. Curious.

He was struck with the thought that it was all somehow normal.  "You don't want to be stuck here any longer than you have to be, yes?  So why don't you humor me and tell me about yourself and what you can do."

"You have no intention of releasing me."

True enough.  At least, not until he knew more about what he had discovered.  "Ah, you do know a little of me.  Then you can believe, that unless you cooperate I can find a way to make your existence far more unpleasant than merely letting you sit in there.  Now, with some voluntary participation, I might be persuaded to offer you certain privileges."  

Vlad flicked at the barrier with a finger, curious on its durability.  It had no give.  An intangible hand-press yielded the same result.  Regardless of whatever else the item could do, he had an impenetrable ghost trap that he might be able to make use of.

By the hard look upon the ghost, Vlad could tell that the spirit was weighing some serious cost and benefit predictions in his mind.  That was a good sign.  The fact that the specter was even doing them meant that Vlad had already won.  Anyone too stupid or stubborn would have already said no.

The correct answer was clear.

"I am Clockwork," the ghost offered.

"Clockwork?" The name didn't ring any bells, he had neither heard or read of it, but it was illuminating enough and confessed what he had strongly suspected.  "It appears that the minutiae of the artifact were far more important than I could have realized.  A ghost of time to call at my will?  Well, it's not what I anticipated, but you'll do.  Strange how there's hardly been a hint of your presence.  Secretive are we?"

"Merely private," Clockwork stated easily.

"Same thing," Vlad accused.  "Now, your abilities, to what extent are they?  Can you travel back and forward through history?"  He needed to know that before anything else.  Otherwise there was no point to any of this.

"They do not go as far as you would demand."

"Why?  Because you can't do it or won't?"

Clockwork had altered his form again, a young child now, taking up a fraction of the space he had beforehand.  His brow had furrowed.  Although Vlad wasn't so adept at reading the faces of children well, he had dealt enough with cornered businessmen to easily recognize an indecisive expression.

The spirit chose silence rather than answer.

All it would take was a bit of reason and things would move along in his favor.  "Shall I remind you of your options?  I can-"

"Quiet, I have no need for your pestering." Clockwork's spectral tail lashed about irritably.  "I am incapable of sending you to any point in time, and as for myself, I can neither travel far enough from now to fix your mistakes."

_His_ mistakes?  The nerve.

Strange how the spirit seemed to already know what he wanted.  Although, perhaps it wasn’t much of a leap to make. Changing history to suit oneself would be a frequent request he imagined.  Even so, the ghost could have brought up something equally logical. Time-manipulation could lead to many actions, if one was creative enough. Then there was how Vlad’s name was brought up without him introducing himself.   He was known in some capacity to the spirit and was curious on which activities of his had garnered attention from the being.  Vlad pressed, "But you _can_   travel?"

It was only for a split-second, but Vlad thought he detected a pause.  "Yes."

He hummed and circled the orb slowly.  The ghost turned in response.  Even though the barrier was doubtlessly not easily broken, Clockwork didn't seem to like his back exposed.  "Of course you wouldn’t deny your abilities, that would be foolish and unbelievable at this point.  Instead you tell me that you are completely and utterly useless to me.  How inconvenient.  I suppose I should just get rid of all this and let you go?  No point in keeping you around, is that right?" His voice dropped low.  "How very favorable for you.”

"I haven't the ability to do as you ask."

"Lies."

The spirit couldn't even come up with a face of affrontation.  "Think as you like."

He rolled the artifact in his grasp.  "Yes.  I shall.  Would you like to know what I'm thinking of right now?  I'm thinking that we should see if this can do anything else." He held up the Guide and gave it a test squeeze.  He was unsurprised to find that nothing had occurred, Vlad was, however, very interested in Clockwork's uncomfortable shift the action brought forth.

The spirit had experience with the Guide.

Vlad tapping along its surface, poking at various points and using different pressures.  They did nothing.  It wasn't until he dragged his fingers along the fine spirals of its surface that the floating orb responded.  Gradually, it decreased in size.

Clockwork gained a wild look in his eyes.  He pulled his adult form in tighter, doing what he could to escape the press.  When that wasn't enough, he sped through his transitions until he reformed as a child once again.  It was a temporary reprieve.  The barrier was still shrinking, and unless it stopped soon, the spirit would be forced to disperse into a cloud.  Such a state could be tolerated as a temporary measure for most ghosts, but it was still uncomfortable at best.

After the bubble had shrank to a size hardly larger than a beach ball, Vlad fumbled with the sphere until it stopped.  "So, do you have another tune that you would like to sing to me?"

"My answer has not changed," Clockwork said, voice dripping with contempt.  "Do not think that you can force any different from me.  I have endured that trinket before and I will do so again if I must.  Long-lived you may come to be, but eventually you will become dust and _I will outlast you_."

The orb suddenly shrank further at the flick of a wrist.

Particles finally gave way and the orb filled with a dense, blue mist.

Maybe stewing in there for a while would show the ghost he meant business. 

What an awful turn of events. Dealing with a willful being instead of a mere tool was going to be a massive challenge. People were so hard to work with.

Vlad toyed with the object for a while afterward.  He managed to learn how to move the orb about the room and mastered changing its dimensions, but made very little head-way on any other capabilities.  At one point, he used his lab equipment on the bubble and its controller, hoping that it would shed more light on its mechanisms, but instead he found himself flummoxed when none of his tools could even detect that an object was present.

Exhausted and put out, he left his lab in a foul mood.

 

* * *

 

After the usual business was done and taken care of, and himself feeling more collected, Vlad had called for his hired hand.  

Skulker came readily, and prepared.  The ghost was decked in new modifications, of Vlad's own design, and had attached a number of extra-projectiles onto his belt.  Anyone that crossed paths with the hunter was bound to have a terrible day.  It was almost a shame that Vlad didn't intend to push the ghost into combat.

The vultures were well suited for the spying that he had them do, but he needed someone that was on better terms with spirits.  Anyone that spotted the vultures automatically knew that Vlad was involved and no one wanted much to do with the halfa.  Nobody was ever stupid enough to antagonize him, but his reputation in the ghost zone didn’t grant him many favors.

Skulker, on the other hand, wasn’t a well known connection to him, and more importantly, got along reasonably well with the crowd on the other side.

Vlad leaned back in his desk chair and asked casually, "Have you ever heard of a ghost with time powers?"

Skulker snorted.

"Something funny?"

The hunter coughed in one hand and waved the other in denial, trying to lighten the mood before Vlad truly became angry.  "No, no.  It's just that there's no such thing.  Although, some might try to make you think so.  Have done so, actually."

Oh, he hoped that wasn't the case here.  Prior to now, he hadn't even considered that the spirit housed in his lab was a fraud, he had only worried whether Clockwork had enough potential in order to do what Vlad wanted.  If there was no potential at all, then he would be on a quick path to righteous fury.  How  _dare_  anyone pretend to hold such power.  "What do you mean?"

"Well, you have ghosts that pretend that they can stop time or see the future, but it's really just a different ability that they're using and saying that it's another.” Skulker hummed, drawing a hand through his goatee.  “Like a few decades ago, there was a ghost that could run extremely fast and had a few convinced that he could travel out of regular time.  He would move things around, sometimes even the people themselves, to make everyone think that he was stopping time and doing it leisurely.  As you can imagine, that didn't pan out well."  He grinned, as if fondly recalling a memory, and added, "It didn't pan out well at all."

Taking Skulker's cheerful comment and hobby into account, Vlad briefly wondered if the fraud had been captured and placed into the hunter's collection.   

No, that would be ridiculous.  Skulker didn't collect spirits that merely purported a uniqueness.  He ultimately decided that he didn't really care about what Skulker had done and asked, "Why ever would anyone make such false claims?"

"To be famous," Skulker said simply.

Vlad nodded.  That was reasonable enough.  "So, it's not possible at all for a spirit to have control over time?"

"No."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Did you not just listen to-"

"You've essentially told me that it's unheard of and that there are ghosts that pretend that they have the ability, but is it impossible?" he pressed.

Skulker ignored the question.  "Why are you so interested in time ghosts anyway?  Weren't you obsessed with a time  _artifact_  three weeks ago?"  

At the long silence that stretched from Vlad, Skulker suddenly gawked.  "You found it.  You  _found_  it?  Was it real?  Oh.  Hold on, you wouldn't be asking about ghosts unless . . . it was fake?"

Skulker sounded about as disappointed as Vlad had first felt when the device dumped the purple-clad ghost upon him.  "The artifact . . . didn't work as I thought it would."

"But it did work?"  

Vlad weighed the question.  As much as he enjoyed his secrecy, Skulker wasn't known for a loose tongue and the job would be made easier by fully briefing the hunter.  With the new information that Skulker had provided, Vlad found that his needs had not changed and were, in fact, reinforced.

He had to know more before he could do anything with this “Clockwork”.

"If it worked or not, remains to be seen," Vlad finally said.  "I have, what appears to be, a _time ghost."_

Skulker looked startled, and then he laughed.  "You do _not_  have a time ghost."

" _It remains to be seen,"_ Vlad repeated.  "These are your orders:  Go into the Ghost Zone and relocate your previous informants from the searches on the artifact. Ask them about a blue-skinned, watch-themed ghost by the name of Clockwork and report back to me in three days.  Get as much information as you can, but don't tell them what I've found."

Skulker frowned. "Plasmius, I really don't think-"

“Go!” he thundered. Skulker was extra help, but he didn’t keep him around for _opinions_.

Cowed, Skulker left, muttering lowly.

Vlad sat back at his desk slowly.  While his spirit staff were up to information gathering, he would remain nearby to see if he could learn more from his newest resident.  Hopefully twenty-four hours in the miniscule orb would yield results.

Nothing more pressing to think on, Vlad belatedly regretted his tone with the hunter.  Skulker and he had a mutually beneficial work relationship, and while he could strong-arm the ghost into doing his work, he didn’t want Skulker to develop animosity for it.

Animosity was something that Vlad was used to receiving, but he'd prefer not to have it from the ghost, not when Skulker voluntarily dropped off invaluable information or useful tools at his doorstep. To keep getting these favors, Vlad needed to do his part in maintaining the cordiality.  Something beyond the typical payments and modifications from him. Skulker could get similar—although not nearly as good—items from Technus if the spirit truly became fed up.

Vlad would have to break out his go-to weapon to patch up his blunder.  

 

* * *

 

Danny scratched his head as he looked at his latest exam results in befuddlement.

Tucker snuck a glance at the paper and said sympathetically, "Oh that's not fair, you've been studying all week."

"And somehow it's just not enough. I don't understand, the answers were coming so easy this time, but it's still wrong?  I mean look at this one."  Sam and Tucker leaned closer as he pointed to one of the questions.  "I could swear that that's right."

Sam pulled out her own exam, one with substantially fewer red marks covering it.  "Well according to the teacher, the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock.  Why did you write Cape Cod?"

"Because that's where they landed!  Right before they got to Plymouth.  I know because I was there!"  He shoved the paper in a nearby garbage can.  No way was he keeping that on him for his sister or parents to find.  "I'm getting more rest than ever before and a tutor that I can really understand but my grades are still going down.  It doesn't make sense."

Tucker patted him consolingly, "You know how you offered us to come with you to your study sessions?  I think I'll pass."

"At least you're doing better in math now," Sam reminded.

"Yeah, Clockwork is pretty good with numbers."

That, at least, made it worth it.  And the extra rest.  That alone was an incredible perk.  He had found that he could much more easily take on the day's hurdles when he had the uninterrupted rest that a time master could provide him, even if the extra hours to his day were playing a bit of havoc with his own internal clock.

Usually, when arriving at Clockwork's tower, he would immediately collapse on any comfortable bit of furniture.  At other moments, he found himself with mild insomnia from previously sleeping at a wrong time.  Despite this, it still worked out fairly well, with him catching rest during his study sessions or regular night hours at home, whichever one worked best for him.

It would be even better, and simpler, if he could convince Clockwork to let him stay for a full day during each visit, but the ghost talked him down with the reasoning that he would age too quickly and that it was important that he spent most of his time with his family.  What he got would have to be enough.

After spending the afternoon with his friends and taking an early dinner at home, he set out into the Ghost Zone.

In addition to an upcoming math quiz, he wanted to speak to Clockwork about his grades in history.  He didn’t doubt that the content the time master let him see and experience was true, and while he was grateful for the help on the subject, if something wasn’t done, he might have to forgo Clockwork’s assistance on the topic altogether.  His grades had been better before the help, in all honesty.

Destination reached, Danny cracked open the door to the dwelling. Immediately, a wash of green light from the terminals encompassed his vision.  

It wasn’t so strange a color in the ghost zone, and he quickly adjusted, but that wasn’t what they were supposed to show. They usually had limitless different scenes from people and places across time.  He hadn’t ever seen them like this.

Nothing else was out of place, but there was something missing.

"Clockwork?"

No answer.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vlad was sure, Clockwork was definitely not a time-ghost.

 

His essence churned in the orb slowly.  Without a form and without a true hold on his power, he had few outlets for his restlessness.

He again stretched, pressing no small amount of force against the sides.  It was a poor distraction from his growing discomfort, but it was better than doing nothing at all.

The cramped space he was in was terrible by itself, his disjointed connection with time worse still.  He would go mad from that long before the claustrophobia truly set in. He had developed a high tolerance for the orb many millennia ago, but its long disappearance had made him spoiled. Clockwork was finding his endurance wearing thin.  Imaginings of being left forgotten in the prison crowded his mind. Although his prime worry was that the artifact would come into Observant hands. They would love to have him packaged up so nicely.

Clockwork, without seeing the shattered remains of the device, had always carried a niggling thought that it would make a reappearance, despite what he had been assured.  The dark patch in his foresight growing closer and larger each day had been the sole, unavoidable warning.

He was a fool.  Instead of taking the blind spot for what it really was, he had mistaken it for a naturally occurring event.  They happened at rare moments due to particularly volatile junctures in the time stream and the changing flows that black holes maintained, so he had easily determined that it was as per usual, even if the width of the gap had deviated from what he regularly dealt with.

The artifact’s reinstatement in his time-span meant that he was either incredibly unlucky, or that he had been betrayed.

Footsteps sounded from the nearby stairwell.

My, Vlad Masters was eager.  Visiting him after only a day?  He might yet be able to bear his confines.  

Vlad appeared before him, the artifact in hand.  “How are you feeling today? More agreeable I hope?”

He didn’t respond.  If he were to speak, it would be in better conditions.  

Vlad seemed to have expected this and expanded the orb. Immediately, he retook his proper form.  He planted all four limbs against the barrier and gave a great long stretch.  

That felt amazing.

“Better?”

Clockwork relaxed and limply rested at the bottom of the globe.  “Much.”

“Now that you’re all cozy, do you think that you might have some things to share?”  Vlad lightly tossed the relic and caught it again. It would be a whimsical gesture under ordinary circumstances, but Clockwork was very aware that it was meant to catch his eye.

After having the opportunity to fully digest his new position and precious hours to plan, Clockwork had reconsidered how to approach the situation.  Completely shutting down Vlad wasn’t likely to hasten his release. If anything, it would infuriate the half-ghost further and would result in extended imprisonment just out of spite, a scenario that Clockwork couldn’t afford.  Not simply because of a desire to spare his sanity, but he also needed to tend to the many obligations that would deteriorate from his absence.

Time was going to be a wreck when he got out.

Clockwork smiled. “I’ve considered a few.”

“Has that overnight stay really done so well for your personality?” Vlad mused.  “I’m surprised. You had so much bite yesterday.”

“Yesterday I was angry.  I’ve been thinking over many things.”

Vlad let out a low hum.  “And you’re not angry today?  You’ve just been compressed for almost a whole day.”

Clockwork supposed it did sound suspicious that he did a one-eighty overnight.  He cursed the fact that Vlad just couldn’t take a good thing at its face value. It was a mentality that Vlad would be the happier for if he gained it.  Nevermind that Vlad was right with his wariness, it was still annoying. Clockwork admitted, “I am a _little_ angry, but I can be reasoned with.”

The invitation hung in the air, begging for someone to nibble at it.

He was surprised when it went ignored, Vlad instead choosing to redirect the conversation.  “Hm, that’s good to hear, but I’d rather talk about your legitimacy.”

“Legitimacy?”

“Yes, I seem to have stumbled upon a problem.  An informant of mine tells me that time control from a ghost is impossible.  With all the curious abilities that spirits are capable of, this strikes me as an odd thing to say.  Why _not_ a time ghost?  Yet, he seemed very convinced of this.  And then, that made me think of all the times I thought I was close to discovering the Guide.  Vague documents and rumors littered everywhere, leading to empty caves and ancient dwellings, only to then find it in a secondhand warehouse, of all places—It all now seems very strange. It’s as if someone was making all these dead ends on purpose, tugging me along to wherever they fancied.  Who is to say that this isn’t just an elaborate hoax? One designed so that you are placed here in order to distract me, meanwhile the maker behind all this learns that I am on to him.”

Clockwork did his best to keep his mouth shut, in the most solemn frown that he could muster, afraid that he would burst out laughing if there was the slightest gap between his lips.  Vlad’s paranoia was amazing, simply put.

He had been the one who scattered all the rumors and maps ages ago.  Clockwork, being uncertain of the artifact’s fate and unable to erase its knowledge, had instead elected to spread lies.  It was the best way of keeping the Observants and other nosey ghosts preoccupied while he kept an ear out for whispers of its true location.

Pulling off deception was much harder without knowledge of future events, but if Clockwork played his cards right, he might be able to work Vlad’s theories to his advantage.  

His expression, tight with barely contained humor, must have come across as a look of distress with how Vlad suddenly exclaimed, “Ha!  Yes. I’m right aren’t I? Who do you serve?”

The millionaire was very fond of his idea in order to latch on so quickly.  

Well, if Clockwork was going to play that way, he couldn't give up the game too easily. “Don’t be ridiculous.  I’m a time ghost.”

“There’s no point in keeping up the charade.  You’ve bought enough time already don’t you think?  Tell me and I’ll grant you mercy. Your master, I’m afraid I can’t say, I’ll provide the same.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions.  What do you think is more likely, a spirit that can control time, which you said yourself, shouldn’t be all that far-fetched, or someone tricking you into wasting your attentions?”

Vlad said evenly, “Someone tricking me, frankly.  Hm, it wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that they have had the true Guide the whole time.”

Clockwork did his best to mimic horror.  Masters had it all figured out, didn’t he?  

Vlad laughed in triumph.  It really wasn’t fair that Clockwork had to keep his own all bottled up.  

The success of his acting was making him giddy.  Not knowing if his words would have a positive effect or not was frightening, yes, but with each successful exchange Clockwork experienced a strong sense of elation.  If he could help it, he would never let himself get into a risky situation without knowing what came next. In the very rare cases where he had to, he couldn’t recall the last time he had managed victory.

Vlad waved his hand in exasperation.  “I should have known. You’re too over-the-top.  I understand what you’re trying to convey but really, six watches?  Two would be bad enough. I hope for your sake that your master is the one who picked everything out for you, heavens knows what kind of fit for trash clothes you would normally wear.”

His mirth dispersed like dust in the wind.  “ . . . _Excuse me?_ ”

Masters treaded on, “Now, one thing I want to know is how long has he known that I am after the real Guide.  Since I activated this? Can he only tell by noticing your disappearance? Has he been monitoring my progress since the very start?”

Clockwork folded his arms and glared.  He didn’t have to fake his resentment. The billionaire huffed at the unspoken defiance.

“Don’t be foolish,” Vlad scolded.  “He could care less about you if he has forced you into someone else’s hands, and repeatedly done so, if I am correct.  He’s hardly someone you should be trying to protect. A bit of information and we could have a mutually beneficial arrangement.  I could get rid of him for you, and you wouldn’t have to worry about running interference any longer. In fact, you would be welcome to stay in my territory until he is disposed of.”

Asylum?  Strange.

He was unsurprised by the presence of an trade, that was a given with a man of business, but what Vlad was suggesting would be on the borderline of true generosity.  He hadn't been aware that Vlad substantially carried the trait in this timeline.

He leaned forward with interest and allowed a wide range of possibilities to enter his mind.  Not real possibilities, unfortunately, but he was so used to his head being supplanted with the information, that it sought the imaginary for lack of an alternative.

“You’re offering me protection,” he said softly, curious.

“Yes.” Vlad’s lips broadened in a manner that the man probably thought was inviting, but showed a few too many teeth for Clockwork’s liking.  He could almost feel the oil that was being directed at him.

Ah, now that he thought on it, hadn’t Vlad developed a hobby of collecting ghostly lackeys?  He would be just another ghost to have at his beck and call should his latest opposition proved too strong to quickly defeat.

Not so generous at all then.

Disappointing.

“You do not protect.  You use.”

The man’s face dropped and turned clinical.  “You seem to have a rather strong impression of me considering that we have hardly met.”

A sense of unease wormed into his belly and his mind raced.   “I . . . have heard a great deal about you.”

Vlad’s took this with calm acceptance.  “I thought you might have,” he said smoothly, the look of assessment not completely leaving him.  He continued, “Is there nothing you might share?”

Clockwork futilely tried to poke at the time stream and wished that he could just stop everything so that he could give the conversation the thought it deserved.  As it stood, he could only speed himself up by a few seconds.

He couldn’t prepare himself like this.  He could plan, but he couldn’t plan well.  He knew that somewhere in all of time and space and outcomes, there existed just the right combination of words that would get Vlad to release him.  Anything other than the perfect sentence would only further mire him in Vlad’s intentions and distrust. The chances of his release hinged on the amount of trust he was given.

A difficult enough task with the man’s skeptical personality.

He couldn’t keep up the pace.  He wanted to think of something, he had to think of something, but instead he worried about the little time he had and how improbable it was that he could come up with something good enough to satisfy Vlad without the benefit of winding back time just to try something different.

He couldn’t do this.

Before he could puzzle out something so basic as a name for his most evil and all-powerful master, Vlad interrupted his slow deliberation with a tone that one might call consoling, “Oh listen, it’s alright, no need to get in a panic.  How about this, you don’t have to tell me right now. We can talk later.”

Clockwork looked to him in surprise.

He couldn’t believe his luck.  Silence had bought him time. No words had been better than any that he might have otherwise said.  

While it wasn’t what he would call a solution, it was a welcome break.  He decided to keep his quiet, fearing that fortune would leave him should he lose it.

Just as Vlad entered the door’s threshold, he said lightly over his shoulder, “However, I suggest you make a decision quickly. I would hate to be unprepared for your master all because I lacked a little information. And then where would you be?   The clock is _ticking_.”  Vlad left with a self-serving chuckle and an easy stride.

Clockwork waited several moments until he was sure the hybrid had gone.

He kicked the barrier in frustration.  It resonated with a low hum from the force of his blow.  “Tasteless. Overused. Those jokes are only good when I say them.”

He slid to the bottom of the orb and allowed himself to wallow in misery, if only for a bit.

Vlad Masters was a piece of work.  As soon as he was out, Vlad was going to find many innocuous objects placed directly in the way of his feet.  Clockwork hadn’t the experience to say, but from what he had seen, toes were very sensitive for mortals and stubbing one was among the greatest pains someone could live through.

There were worse things he could do.

A lot worse things, but Vlad had yet to try anything truly malicious on him and he couldn’t justify doing the same.  The orb was harmful, but its effects were, as-of-yet, unknown to the billionaire, and while the man was well stunted in compassion and had a tendency for violence, Clockwork didn’t think him capable of flat-out torture.  He would get a pass.

Now, to the task of creating a background for himself and his mighty liege.  It shouldn’t be that hard to do now that he could plan. Inspiration from countless individuals and his own personal experiences would go far to help him.

 

* * *

 

 Vlad’s cheer dissipated the moment he left, having no need for it any longer.  

Hopefully his assurances would make the spirit looser-lipped.  He could probably get the same result from cracking open the container and giving the spirit good reason to be wary of him, but now knowing that someone had been lurking behind the scenes and the ghost’s apparent fear of that reaching shadow, Vlad didn’t think he would have need to.  A bit of sound logic and nudging in the proper direction would get him what he wanted.

He felt a fool.  Years of effort and resources he had poured into his search and he had nothing to show for it.

When he got ahold of the Guide's true wielder, he would wring their neck.

As he walked the hall, ready to turn into his study, he spotted a welcome sight.

“Hello you,” he murmured and picked up the soft mass of fur that brushed against his legs.  Maddie tolerated this with minimal squirming.

It was nice to know that someone was in a good mood.  His had been shot as soon as he had activated that useless trinket.  Uncooperative ghosts, deception, and crushed expectations were all he had dealt with and he was ready for a break.

He could afford one, he figured.  If the real Guide had actually been procured, the ghost must have no idea how to use it.  They would certainly have had the chance to attack by now if they did as it made little sense to allow an enemy to plan.  Perhaps even, the device was malfunctioning. That was a distressing thought. Bad enough that he didn't have it, nevermind thinking about how once he did, he would have to spend additional effort in fixing it.

With wiggles that loosened his hold, Maddie took the opportunity to rub against his chest, effectively spreading strands of white hair across his black suit.

"You're a devil," he accused.  Maddie continued. Even if she had understood him, he had no doubt that she would be just as dismissive.  

A red mist escaped from him.  He glared at the smoke as it dissipated.

He really wasn't in the mood for whatever wanted to greet him.

Skulker manifested from a wall at the corridor's end.

His mood soured further.

"Hey, I know that it's- You have a cat?"

"No," he said automatically and released Maddie onto the floor.  She looked at him in betrayal before darting off. “I'm just watching her for my sister.”

Skulker should not have come so soon.  Vlad very much doubted that the spirit's name was really Clockwork and by all rights, Skulker should have searched for all three days.  It would take a long time to find nothing, after all.

"What are you doing here?  You've hardly had a chance to get started.  You haven't been cutting corners have you? I swear, if you've come without something, I'm going to make-"

"I did, I did," Skulker quickly assuaged, then belatedly added, "Sorta."

Vlad eyed him, not liking the sound of that.  "Very well. What do you have for me?"

Skulker ran a hand through the green flames atop his head, looking more than a little overwhelmed.  "Well, I talked with a lot of ghosts, old ones I've spoken to before and a few new ones. It didn't really go anywhere at first.  I mean, if they knew about this guy you found, they would have told me before, right? But then I spoke with this old spirit, that always seemed to know what he was talking about, and he started getting a bit nosey, I guess you could say."

People butting into his business was the last thing he needed.  He had enough to worry about without also having to deal with competition.  "And you didn't tell him anything?"

"Of course not, but he was very interested in what I was talking about.  I think he asked me more questions than I asked him. He wanted to know where I heard the name and where I heard it from."

Curious.  "Did he have anything to tell you?"

"No-"

"Then is there a point as to why you are here?  I don't consider this as particularly pertinent."  It was interesting that someone had heard of this Clockwork although.

"I was getting to that," Skulker said irritably before his tone dropped low and serious.  "The reason why I bring it up, is because not long after, I went back home and found a bunch of Warden's enforcers watching the place.  I thought that they might be planning to haul me back to jail, but then I saw Observants lurking about there. Now, I've got a spotty record, Plasmius, but I haven't done anything that would warrant them."

Observants?

The ghost was right, the Observants didn't take notice of people like Skulker.  

Shouldn't anyways.  

They kept their own counsel for the most part, and seemed to consider themselves as some kind of back-seat governing body despite doing pretty much nothing for the dimension.  The only thing that gave them the slightest bit of credence for that claim was that they, at times, took care of the more unruly denizens of the Ghost Zone that The Warden was incapable of dealing with.  They truly were powerful ghosts though and probably one of the more mysterious groups in the Ghost Zone.

Vlad wouldn’t be surprised if they had the Guide.  Actually, the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Skulker asked cautiously, "Plasmius, do you really think he can control time?"

After his talk with the spirit, no, he didn't.  Instead, he had a good grasp of the enemy he could be facing.  "Hn, didn't you know Skulker? There's _no such thing_."

The hunter looked skeptical.  "You sure?"

"Am I going to have to convince _you_ now?" Vlad asked in disbelief.  "It wouldn't surprise me if the the Observants have the real artifact.  Whoever it is, allows people to capture our guest just to distract them while they figure out who's interested in the Guide."

Skulker paused, considering, and said slowly, "Then why is it, that before, whenever I would dig for information about the Guide, nothing would come up, but _now_ \- Now I say his name and I have my place swarming with Observants?"

"He's in _collusion_ with them, obviously." Vlad hissed through his teeth. "And where is this coming from?  You said that it was impossible, as though it were hard fact. I will not appreciate it if I find that you've been filling my head with mere rumor, Skulker."

Skulker snapped, "Yeah, well, it's not like there's ever been anything to prove otherwise.  No ghost has ever been born with the ability or learned it, even though the best have tried."  Skulker leaned back with a groan, cupping his face in his hands. "But you're probably right. Observants get up to some weird shit every now and again.  And now they're at my doorstep, looking for me. Don't ask me to do jobs for a while. I'm going to lay low until all this blows over.”

A good idea. Actually- “Why don’t you stay here? It has to be better than some old warehouse. And you won’t have to worry about Daniel throwing you back in the ghost zone.”  Probably. Daniel wasn’t above uninvited visits, but kicking up the security around the place should keep the boy occupied long enough for Vlad to be properly notified.

It would be handy to have Skulker around when he decided to take on the Observants.  Raiding their dwelling could take a lot of time if he didn’t know where to look and the spirit could at least serve as a good distraction.

He was eyed strangely. What? Did Skulker think that he couldn’t make a reasonable offer? “Can I bring Ember? If it’s the Observants, this could take a while.”

“No, absolutely not.” Bad enough that Skulker knew about the Guide, as if he was going to risk anyone else finding out about it. Besides, he was not dealing with the racket that she would indulge in.

“Nah, I’ll find some place else then.” Skulker waved dismissively. “So what’s the plan?”

“I’m going to see what our friend thinks of all this. If I can recruit him, it will make things easier when we take on the Observants.”

Skulker mouthed a disbelieving “we” in his direction, “You mean us? Jesus, you want to storm their place? Even if you manage to beat some of them down, they can make things hard in other ways.” Skulker’s self-banishment being an unsaid example.

Vlad straightened his lapel flippantly. “I’ll deal with those as they come up.” What part of time-device did people not understand? Ultimately nothing mattered once he succeeded.

Skulker turned away. “Yeah, none of this sounds great to me. Sorry, you'll have to get another guy.” He said over his shoulder, “Maybe even an army.”

Vlad didn't get the chance to argue his case further before Skulker took his leave.

Well, that threw a wrench in his planning.

He pulled out his phone for a quick call.

“Hello? Jean? It's Vlad Masters. I was wondering if it was too late to add to my order?”

 

* * *

 

The next day yielded nothing new.

Something had either happened to Clockwork, or he was very determined to not be found.

Danny’s search had led him to exploring the ghost’s dwelling thoroughly, only to find nothing for his efforts.

The ghost couldn't have simply forgotten their meeting. Or rather, if he had, then that wouldn't have stopped him from showing period. Clockwork could travel in the space of a blink and say that he’d been gone for weeks, so if the spirit set his mind to it, there was no way he would allow Danny to miss him.

Danny also couldn't rationalize it as some sort of punishment or test.

The ghost did sometimes have strange teaching methods, but they always met up first. And where was the lesson here? Don’t go meeting people you made plans with?

Yeah, no sense there. But he couldn’t make sense of the other conclusion either. If Clockwork didn’t willingly ditch Danny, then something _happened_.

That was beyond unsettling.  Danny couldn’t even approach Clockwork, if the ghost didn’t allow it.  And he had tried. Every now and again, they would spar in the name of helping Danny’s fighting skills and it was clear how difficult of an opponent Clockwork was.  

The lessons had been miserable. He never came out on top of a match unless he was quite plainly given a win.  Winning wasn’t the goal of the lessons, Clockwork had told him, but that hadn't done a thing to help his bruised ego.  In Danny's prior experience, usually the only ghosts that went undefeated were the ones that he didn’t fight with at all, either because he couldn’t be bothered, or because they were too friendly to even think about it.

He considered himself, and well, everyone, to be very lucky that Clockwork was rather benevolent. If someone could outclass Clockwork, then Danny had doubts that he could match them.

He took his ideas to Sam and Tucker. They had agreed, the whole situation was very odd.

The next day, they began a search.

They packed inside the newly rebuilt Specter Speeder and started with the Ghost Zone. It was a very broad landscape to search, and it was frustrating that choosing it over the human realm was as far as he had gotten to narrowing down the list of possible locations. Danny had hoped that by talking to random spirits, someone would have news about the wayward ghost, but no one seemed to have ever heard of him. He supposed he should have expected that. Not all ghosts could possibly know each other. However, he was a little miffed to find that whenever he tried to describe Clockwork to someone, they went so far as to call him a liar.

Apparently Clockwork didn’t get out much.

Finally, after stopping for a talk with their eleventh ghost of the day, Danny received some decent advice.

“Nobody’s seen him in Springfield?” an elderly looking ghost asked after a brief chat of their dilema.

“Springfield?” Danny shared a confused glance with Sam and Tucker, no doubt they too were trying to figure out what business Clockwork could have in the town that was several miles south of Amity.

The ghost raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen. Why?”

“I mean, how long have you been dead, boy?”

Danny stalled at the question. It wasn’t that it bothered him, it was far from the first time he’d been asked, it’s just that he couldn’t figure out how it was relevant.

Sam picked up the slack for him. “Not for very long. Could you help us out?”

The response drew the ghost’s attention to his friends, as if he had only just noticed them. “Hey wait, are they alive?”

It took a while to get the ghost back on track. Once they did, they learned that, despite the flowery name, Springfield was actually a small town in the ghost zone that hosted an array of spirits and had a selection of businesses to offer. Danny was shocked. Most spirits seemed to have a place they called their own, but a town? Honest-to-goodness civilization? How long had that been going on? He voiced his surprise.

“Well, some of us like to get out and talk to people every once in a while, maybe shoot some pool. But if you're looking for someone, that's where you ought to check first.”

It wasn’t a choice, they had to go. A steady congregation of spirits would sure beat sporadic encounters, and they had a much greater chance of someone knowing _something_.

After some convoluted and long winded directions from the ghost, they gave their thanks and continued their search.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, I was going to wait until I got more of chapter 3 written, but I feel decently about this chapter, and I've been sitting on it for far too long. I may rewrite the first chapter at some point.
> 
> I chose Springfield as the name for the town because it's the second most popular city name in the US and so completely at odds with what you might expect something to be called in the ghost zone.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  A thank you to anyone who has done fanworks concerning these two dorks. It has kept me from burying this in a forgotten vault somewhere.
> 
> I plan to release the second chapter in the coming weeks, but after that, updates will probably be agonizingly slow. If you want to help me out with the process, you can recommend some music to listen to while I write. They go a long way. Songs with minimal lyrics or with foreign lyrics are preferable, but hey, if you think it might be just what I need, send it over. :D 


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